Growing Pains
by Nomi001
Summary: What really happens when Joe ran away from home? pls R&R! Finis .... prequel to Lessons Learnt
1. Foreword

**Title of Story: **

Growing Pains

**Type of Story**

AU

**Rating of Story**

PG - 15

**Characters in Story: **

Primary Characters:

The usual cast and OC

**Warnings: **

Angst? Maybe.

**Plot Blurb:  
**What really happen when Joe ran away from home?

**Splash Page**

**Special Notes**

All acknowledgements and references used in this story will be in the Epilogue. But its Dorothy's Runaway that inspired this story – I really hope she doesn't mind me borrowing those few bits from her works.


	2. Chapter 1

**TITLE: Growing Pains **

**CHAPTER 1: **

**Jolly **

_At present, 2am: _

It was 2am in the morning, according to his digital clock. Frank was still awake. For the fourth time, he threw off his covers, walked through the connecting door through the shared bathroom into his brother's room. He just had to make sure that Joe was still there. That everything was not a dream.

For a long while, he stood by the bathroom door, and simply looked at his brother, relishing in the comfort he drew from simply being in his presence. It had been five months since he had this particular pleasure. Five long months since his brother ran away from home. But Joe came back, and in time for his 18th birthday. Perhaps a part of him always knew that Joe would never let him celebrate his 18th birthday alone. Perhaps that was why he had been reluctant to have a party. It was because he was waiting for Joe to come home.

Frank moved silently towards his brother's bed, and looked down at his sleeping brother. His fingers itched to reach out and just touch that lock of wavy blond hair, but it paused in midair. Joe needed his sleep.

He wanted badly to ask Joe why he ran away. It could not be a simple case of grades, immaturity, and summer school, as his parents believed. He knew Joe better than anyone, and he refused to believe that Joe could run away for such petty reasons. They had made a promise to be there for each other, always. Suddenly, Frank realized he was actually desperate to know that his trust in his brother was still intact. If Joe had no better reasons for running away than he did, then, his faith in his brother would be shaken. The implicit bond shared between them would be broken. And they may never again regain the old level of closeness. Frank let out an involuntary gasp. That new knowledge shook him to the core.

It was a while before Frank realized that Joe was awake and looking at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." Frank whispered gruffly.

Dark blue eyes looked into bright brown ones. "Frank, I…"

"Hush." Frank interrupted. "Sleep. We have all the time in the world to talk tomorrow." Frank promised. For the first time, Frank noticed the shadows in the depths of Joe's eyes. How he could see that in the dark of the night, Frank had no idea. Perhaps it was his soul doing the seeing. His brother had gone through something … bad … and had gone through it alone.

A need to comfort rose so quickly, before he knew it, he was sitting on Joe's bed, holding him, and gently stroking his hair. The way he used to when they were kids, when Joe woke up from his nightmares. Big brother was always there to drive away the nightmares.

"Frank?" Joe asked hesitantly. "Stay with me tonight?"

Frank nodded and waited for Joe to move aside before slipping in under the covers. He held his brother as they fell asleep, just like when they were kids. And that was how they were when the sun rises 5 hours later.

**HBHBHBHB **

_4 hours earlier, 10pm: _

Frank let himself into the house after sending his girlfriend, Callie, home. It was a good party. He felt a little guilty for not enjoying it as much as he should, especially when all his friends had put in lots of effort to make it a memorable and successful birthday party. He had had lots of presents. His friends had gone way out to get him the gadgets that he wanted. He should be ecstatic, except for the fact that he did not get what he really wanted. He wanted his brother home. And no one could give him that.

Fenton and Laura Hardy looked sadly at a despondent Frank. They missed Joe too, and feared for his safety. But they know it was Frank who was most hurt by Joe's disappearance. The brothers were close. _'Too close, maybe.' _Fenton thought to himself. For some reason Frank kept looking at the clock. He wondered why. He walked over to give Frank a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before turning back to help his wife cleanup the aftermath of a party. "It's your birthday, Frank. Your mom and I will clear the mess. Why not go and enjoy your new gifts or have an early night?" Fenton told his eldest son.

Frank reluctantly dragged his eyes off the clock and sighed. Walking over to his parents, he gave each of them a hug, saying simply: "Thanks. For everything."

Then the doorbell rang.

**O**

Joe stood apprehensively outside the kitchen door. He had no idea what his reception would be like. His family believed he ran away from home after all. Which he sort of did. But he had to come home today. He promised Frank that they will celebrate Frank's transition to legal adult together. And he always kept his promise to his brother.

He had been there, across the road, hidden from view, watching the festivities in his home. He saw all his and Frank's friends arrived. Watched the light and shadows from the windows, and imagined the fun and laughter going on in there, which he felt he was not a part of. He watched the friends left. Watched his brother drove Callie home and returned. All the while, he was hugging on tightly to his present for Frank. It was a very special gift.

Then the door opened.

**O**

Frank had run for the door the moment he heard the doorbell. Even as his parents looked up in surprise wondering who it was so late at night. He knew it was Joe, even before he opened the door. Soft brown eyes met with sapphire blue ones. The two brothers stood there, staring at each other, for a while before Frank finally reached out and pulled Joe in over the threshold into a bear hug. It was a while before he felt Joe tentatively return the hug. He could hear his parents rushing towards them in the doorway. Joe took a step back, looked at all three of them in the eye, and said quietly, "I am sorry."

**O**

Several minutes later, all four Hardys were comfortably seated in the living room. Laura, having noted that Joe looked half frozen had had wrapped him up in a woolen blanket and made him a warm mug of hot chocolate. All four of them sat in companionable silence. None of them wanted to break the somewhat peaceful atmosphere that permeates the room. Frank sat closed to Joe, and could not resist reaching out to touch Joe every now and then. As if to reassure himself Joe was really there.

Suddenly, Joe moved. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a longish package casually wrapped in brown paper and tied with a piece of twine. Holding out the present to Frank, he said, "Happy Birthday."

It was clear to Frank that Joe expected him to open it. So he unwrapped it, and gasped. It was a longish handmade wooden picture frame with some Chinese characters carved on the sides. In it was a series of pencil sketches of exceptional quality. And it was all of him. He had no doubt that Joe drew those pictures and made the wooden frame. The heart and efforts that was invested in this gift spoke volumes.

Joe's fingers lightly touched the characters carved onto the wooden frame and told his big brother in a soft voice, "It said 'Brothers'."


	3. Chapter 2

** Growing Pains**

By Jolly and Soda

CHAPTER 2:

_7 hours later, Saturday, 9 a.m.: _

Everyone had finished their breakfast. Or, everyone had given up the pretense of eating breakfast and making small-talk.

Laura Hardy had started to clear the table to escape, for a moment, the tension at the dining table. It did not escape her critical eye that Joe had slimmed down, which was not surprising, given the situation.

There was also a stillness about him that was at odds with the super-active boy who was always on the move. There was a sadness about him that was contrary to the happy-go-lucky boy who could find joy in even the most mundane things around him.

He had grown up far too quickly over the last five months, Laura decided sadly.

O 

At the other end of the table, Joe was focusing on his glass of orange juice, wondering how to start 'The Talk'.

He thought he was ready, having replayed what he was going to say and how he was going to say it, hundreds of times in his mind. But now, the words seemed stuck in his throat. They seemed inappropriate, somehow. Finally, much to his relief, his dad made the first move.

"Joe, would you like to tell us, why?" Fenton Hardy went straight to the point, as was his style.

Joe fidgeted a little before replying, "I am not sure where to start…"

"Don't worry too much about that," Fenton told Joe gently. "Why not start by telling us what happened on the day you …disappeared?" he suggested, knowing that a narration of the events of that day would act as a buffer to the more sensitive issues, and would help ease the discussion more smoothly into the more serious issues.

"OK." Joe took a deep breath, and started telling his side of the story…

O 

Frank sat at the dining table listening patiently as Joe talked about the events of that fateful day, all the while wishing in his heart that it was just him and his brother. The darkness he glimpsed from Joe last night still bothered him. Unfortunately, his parents did have the right to expect to talk to Joe first, and to find out what happened.

Glancing at the clock, Frank noted without much surprise that a good half hour had passed and that Joe had essentially told them close to nothing. Well, maybe an insight into Joe's perspective. But not what Frank needed to know from his brother.

Joe always had the ability to tell an engaging story, exploiting every single minor detail, but gave nothing of importance away. It was a skill, Frank admitted to himself, which got them out of trouble numerous times. Sometimes from the bad guys, but mainly from their parents. At the moment, it was a talent Joe could do without, Frank concluded.

_'What are you hiding, little brother?' Frank wondered. _

The story so far was not totally unexpected, but Frank could not help but feel a little guilty. He had been busy with his special projects, spending time with Callie, and excited about leaving for college back then. He realized now that Joe had not asked for any tutoring help the couple of months before he ran away. He had noted that Joe had spent time studying and had assumed Joe was coping. And in the meantime, Joe had struggled on alone.

In hindsight, he should have also realized the constant comparison between him and Joe by his parents would eventually lead to a confrontation. He had failed to see underneath Joe's happy-go-lucky façade, to the resentment boiling below. In that sense, he was just as responsible for driving Joe away.

O 

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted Joe's narration.

Fenton Hardy excused himself and went to answer the door, still mulling over what he heard. He had no idea that Joe felt he loved Frank more. Nor did he realize Joe thought so little of himself. He also had a nagging suspicion that if he checked his scheduler, he might find that he had made more allowances for Frank's academic activities than Joe's sporting events. That truth sat a little uncomfortably on his conscience.

Fenton sighed. _Some things have to change._ Though, he still had to stress to Joe the importance of maintaining an average grade in his studies. However, this gave a new perspective and he would have to reconsider very carefully the punishment for Joe's irresponsible behavior of running away from home. He had always taught his sons to be responsible and to face the consequences of their actions.

Laura raised a questioning eyebrow at him when he returned with two men in black suits.

"These are FBI agents, Brian Coolman and Ned Mayers. They are here for Joe."

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_5 months earlier, on that afternoon: _

Joe was alone at the school's basketball court, bouncing the ball and shooting hoops. He dreaded going home. His report card was in his bag and he did not want to show it to his parents. He had worked hard the last few weeks, but his grades were still border-line. In fact, he almost flunked this semester. He wished he was more like Frank, his elder brother, who as usual would be bringing home a perfect report card.

Frank. He and Frank were as different as night and day. Physically, Frank had dark brown hair with soft brown eyes and a lean build. Joe was blonde, with sparkling blue eyes and a more muscular build. Personality wise, Frank was meticulous and disciplined, while Joe was impulsive and quick-tempered. Frank was neat, while he was not. Frank reasoned out his actions while Joe acted on gut instinct. Academically, Frank was the studious one, and a straight-A student at Bayport High, whereas Joe was currently barely scraping through. Frank held a black belt in karate, while Joe took up boxing. While both of them excelled in sports, Joe was the natural sportsman, winning many medals for his school. Frank was always there to pull him out of scrapes. He could not say the same for himself. Well, maybe once? Twice?

It was no wonder everyone considered Frank the perfect son and the perfect brother, Joe muttered to himself as he prepared to go home, feeling more depressed than before. Not for the first time, he felt a twinge of resentment against Frank – which he quickly squashed.

'After all, Frank does love me; just think of all the times he looks out for me and saves my life!' Joe reminded himself. 'And its summer holidays again! Weeks of fun in the sun and no school work!' he cheered.

Joe took a deep breath before entering his home. As expected, his parents were waiting for him. Frank was seated on the corner couch pretending to read – a sure sign of nervousness. It didn't look good at all. Joe put down his backpack on the sofa and faced his parents. "Hi Mom, Dad."

His dad responded: "Joe, we need to talk. Your teachers called about your performance in school, and I think we need to make some drastic changes …"

"What do you mean drastic changes?" Joe asked in trepidation.

"Well, Joe, I know that I have been pushing you and Frank rather hard in terms of helping me out with my cases. But schooling is important, and you need to maintain at least an average level of grades. Border-line passes are not acceptable, Joe!" Fenton began.

"Dad, I've been working on it. Next semester will be better…" 

"No, Joe. Both I and your mom have been discussing the matter. School comes before cases. We've decided that there will be no more detective work for you until you catch up with your school work…"

"But Dad …" Joe protested.

"Joe, we've also organized summer classes to help you catch up …" Laura chipped in.

"Wh-What!" Joe stuttered.

Without giving Joe time to react, Fenton continued and dropped the final bombshell. "Joe, we also think you should consider dropping some of your sporting commitments so that you have more time to spare on your studies …"

"No way!" Joe exploded. He could not imagine a summer studying, much less a semester without all his beloved sports. "Dad, I've been studying hard, really. I don't deserve this!"

"Your grades say otherwise, Joe."

"But Dad …"

"That's our final decision."

Joe stared at his father, then his mom. "I refuse to go to summer school! I've worked hard and I want my break and to have some fun with my friends …"

'You will abide by our decision, Joe. Else you'll be grounded for the entire summer break, and next semester as well, until we see improvements in your grades! And that's final!' Fenton ground out between clench teeth as he fought to hold on to his temper.

Joe grabbed his bag and headed to his room. A moment later, a resounding BANG vibrated through the house as Joe slammed the door to his room.

Joe heard his father say: "Let him be. He needs to learn his lessons and grow up. We'll go out for dinner as planned – to celebrate your results, Frank. Joe can stay home and reflect on his actions tonight."

Joe sat in his room fuming. He was angry that his parents did not give him a chance to explain his side of the story, even as he understood that his parents meant well and wanted him to get good grades for his own future's sake. But he tried. He just wasn't as smart as Frank. He just couldn't 'get' calculus, nor remember historical dates and events. Joe also knew he wasn't on model behavior for the last several months. Not since Iola died in the car bombing meant for him and Frank five months back. He had been moody and susceptible to extreme mood swings. He had been taking what his father and brother termed 'unacceptable risks'.

He could hear Frank coming up the stairs. But instead of dropping by to see how he was doing, Frank went straight to his own room. Joe sat on his bed, stunned that even Frank ignored him. He listened to the sounds of the shower and Frank preparing himself for his dinner treats. Twenty minutes later, he heard the car pull out of the driveway, leaving him all alone at home.

Over the last twenty minutes, Joe's anger had grown. 'All they want is another Frank, and all they care about are grades' he thought bitterly.

He turned to his shelf and looked at all the sporting achievements, the medals and trophies he won over the years. He recalled all the times when his father attended Frank's chess and science tournaments, but missed his games. Joe knew he wasn't being rational or fair. But it hurt to know he was the crappier one. As the minutes passed, his anger and resentment grew. It hurt so much to know no matter how hard he tried; he could not ever match up to his brother.


	4. Chapter 3

**Growing Pains **

By Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 3:

_7 hours 40 minutes later, Saturday, 9:40 a.m.: _

Both Frank and Laura were shocked into silence. Why would the FBI be after Joe? It wasn't long before both started protesting that there must be some mistake somewhere.

Frank was getting a bad feeling about everything. Did this have anything to do with the shadows in Joe's eyes? Frank watched his brother's reaction to the agents' arrival in consternation. Joe had stiffened at the sight of the two men, and then went white. What happened during those five months? What did Joe do?

Fenton, having been given a briefing by the agents, reached out to his wife, holding her in a comforting grip. "It's all right. It's all right. Let them explain," he called out reassuringly to Frank and Laura, and then to Joe. However, his face bore an extremely anxious expression that could not be ignored.

Both agents, realizing the distress they were causing everyone, quickly moved to assure them that they were here 'for' Joe, not 'after' him.

Joe paled as he suddenly understood the significance of their presence. "The others. Nothing happened, right? They are okay, right?" he rasped out before he realized it.

The taller agent, Brian, walked over to Joe and placed his hands comfortingly on his shoulders before answering in a soft, gentle tone: "Three of them were killed in the past two days. The others are being taken to safety as we speak."

Turning to face the rest of the rather worried family members, he told them, "Joseph is one of the key witnesses to a case implicating several influential members of a powerful crime syndicate whose trial will be starting this coming Monday. That's in three days' time. Some of the witnesses were killed in the last few days. We are here to move Joseph and his family into protective custody."

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_5 months earlier, on that night: _

It was not long before hunger forced Joe out of his bedroom into the kitchen downstairs. The sun had long set and it was dark. Without bothering to turn on the lights, Joe headed straight for the fridge and reached for the leftover roast from yesterday.

He was caught by surprise when he was pulled backwards against a muscular chest. A gloved hand over his mouth prevented his outcry. Joe's struggle stilled a fraction of a second later when he felt a gun against his ribs. A menacing whisper told him to stay quiet and do what he was told if he valued his life.

Within minutes, he was blindfolded and gagged; his hands were tied behind him. _'There goes dinner,'_ Joe thought to himself mockingly as he was propelled up the stairs and into his room and pushed onto his bed. His stomach chose that moment to rumble in agreement. He could still feel the gun against him. From the rustling sounds around him, Joe deduced that someone was going through his closet and drawers.

_'Two of them, at least.' Joe concluded. _

Joe could not help but wince in pain when his gag, which was a thick piece of duct tape, was suddenly ripped off. A hand gripped a handful of his hair and jerked his head painfully upwards, and a voice whispered roughly in his right ear: "Where do you keep your cash and passport?"

"We don't keep cash on these premises," Joe retorted, and was rewarded with a backhand to his cheek.

"Last chance. Your cash and passport," the same voice growled into his ear.

"Third drawer from the top. A fake bottom," he ground out through clenched teeth. The gun that was digging deep into Joe's ribs had served as a painful reminder of his precarious position.

More rustling noises followed.

"What do you want, anyway?" Joe could not help but to ask when he heard another voice say: "All done."

Joe felt the grip on his hair loosen. Then he shivered as the cold gloved fingers began to touch his cheek almost caressingly. "Well, my boy. You are going to run away from home. Just like the other 200,000 American kids every year."

Before Joe could respond to that, he felt a needle prick his arm. Things got somewhat colorful and dreamy soon after that. He remembered only bits and pieces. Like walking out of the house…getting into a cab...and he had a backpack with him. Then there was darkness.


	5. Chapter 4

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 4:

_Eight hours thirty minutes later, Saturday, 10:30 a.m.: _

In the spacious living room of the Hardy residence, Frank and his parents were still in shock after listening to Brian's summary of Joe's role in bringing down two major operating arms of the most powerful criminal syndicate based in New York State. The three of them simply sat there with varying degrees of disbelief, anger and anguish flitting across their faces.

O 

Frank had a difficult time coping with the barrage of emotions assailing him as he listened to Agent Coolman's description of Joe's abduction. The Modus Operandi: a kid with problems at home, a runaway scenario, the use of a mild hypnotic, and a cab. Anger flared quickly to rage, and sank rapidly into terror, rose with gladness that Joe was now home safe, only to stagger under the overwhelming burden of guilt.

Anger at the abductors swung quickly to rage for their transgressions. Then there was the anguish for what Joe went through, fear for the impact if would have on him. Frank had not forgotten the black hole that Joe had fallen into after Iola's death. He still shuddered whenever he thought of those times.

Worst of all was the feeling of guilt and shame that weigh heavily on him like a millstone around his neck. His brother was taken from him. Joe never ran away from home. He had believed Joe had run away, and in believing that, never really searched for him. Frank thought in bitter irony that it was never his faith in Joe that was the issue. Now it seemed that Joe's faith in him might be. He should have known better. And it was he who failed his brother.

Then he gritted his teeth, clenched his fingers, and willed himself to calmness, and began to sort through his feelings one by one. He had to, for his own sake, but more importantly, for Joe. He had not been there for Joe five months ago, but he would be there for his brother from now on.

O 

If he hadn't been the object of discussion, Joe would have been rolling about on the floor laughing his heart out. Those expressions on their faces were priceless. But now, that only served to deepen his misery.

_'Only me. Joseph Paul Hardy, born with a trouble magnet firmly affixed to my ass,' Joe muttered to himself with a grimace. 'In fact, that's how any author would describe me if they were going to have me in their stories. That's probably how I am going down in the annals of the Hardy family history.' _

He had insisted the agents tell him who died and how. Madeline was killed in a hit and run. Andy's body was found in a dump, killed by a bullet through his brain. And Yan was poisoned. He and Phailin were the two key witnesses left for the prosecution now. It was so unfair. After all that they had gone through, and fought for. Freedom was short-lived.

_'At least they were free.'_ A small voice whispered at the back of his mind. But that offered him little comfort.

O 

Fenton Hardy, internationally respected private investigator, watched his youngest son sitting alone on the corner couch, curled into a ball with his arms wrapped protectively around himself, and felt that he had failed at being both a father and also a PI. As a father, for having such little faith in his son, for believing that Joe was immature enough to run away out of pettiness when he knew they both had quick tempers and that Joe was still grieving over Iola's death. As a PI, for not realizing his home was broken into, and that his son was abducted from right under his nose.

At the same time, a small measure of pride arose, that Joe had beaten the odds and given back those who had dared to take him twofold by bringing down those two operations.

_'Human slavery and drug trade.'_ The father was almost too scared to think on what happened, but he forced himself to. He owed that to Joe.

Suddenly, he noticed a small red dot on Joe's chest. Fear filled him as he leapt off his chair and gave Joe's couch a mighty heave.

"Joe, MOVE!" he yelled. In the next instant, the glass window shattered, and everybody ducked for cover.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_4 months 2 weeks earlier: _

Joe Hardy was on his knees, awkwardly scrubbing the toilet floor. His movements were greatly restrained by the iron shackles around both his wrists and ankles.

"Right out of King Arthur's dungeon!" Joe mumbled tiredly.

The foot-long chains that connected both his wrist shackles and anklets also meant that he could only shuffle along.

The reason why they put heavy iron shackles on him was because of his two attempts to escape. After the failed first attempt, he got 10 lashes from a leather belt and went a day without food.

His second attempt was almost successful. Well, he would like to think it was. That was when they dragged in a girl and made him watch. Later, as he tended to her wounds, he found out she was called Phailin.

He had not made another escape attempt after that.

After he finished his chore, Joe cleaned himself up the best he could, before knocking on the door to tell the guard he was done. They had given him more chores, less food and sleep than the others for a week now. And he was downright exhausted. They were trying to wear him down and break him. As things stood now, he was afraid they might well succeed.

The guard shoved him into his usual room, and then locked the door behind him. Joe wearily made his way past his sleeping roommates and collapsed onto his makeshift cot. He pulled the flea-bitten blanket around him, and tried to sleep. But tonight, he found himself thinking of home. For tonight, he wasn't sure he would be seeing home again. That sent a spike of fear deep down his guts.

"They will find me! Dad's the best detective in the world, and Frank a close second," Joe hissed fiercely to himself.

'But it's been two weeks,' another voice mocked him. 'And how were they to know where to find you?' the voice of doubt continued.

_'No! They will find me! They will not leave me here to die, in the dark and alone. Frank will find me! Frank is always there to pick up after me! Frank...' _

Joe recalled the big argument he had with his parents on the day he'd been taken. Would Mom and Dad really believe that he ran away? More importantly, would Frank? Surely Frank would know that he would never leave him voluntarily? Surely they would be searching for him now, regardless of what they believed?

Did he manage to leave any clue behind? Unfortunately, he could only remember being accosted in his home, then waking up right here in this very room.

There were twelve of them in this room, including him. Some were teens, like him. The others were really just kids. Very frightened kids and teens. Like him, when he found out he was 'napped' by a human trading ring, though he hid it better than they. Joe uttered a soft curse as he felt a stinging sensation in his eyes. He was not crying. He refused to. Not here. He angrily wiped his eyes with his tattered shirt.

A soft sniffle attracted his attention. Turning, he saw it was the little girl next to him. She could not be more than 10 years old. Reaching out, he patted her comfortingly on her head. Suddenly without warning, the girl just jumped into his arms, clutched him and cried. Stunned, Joe held her, and tried to calm her down; telling her everything was all right, over and over.

After awhile, she stopped crying. Looking up at Joe, she said miserably: "I want to go home."

"Don't we all," a male voice responded bitterly. The girl started crying all over again.

Joe wanted to berate that boy for upsetting her, when all the pieces of observations he had been making just fell into place and clicked. He was his father's son after all, and he never stopped taking notes on his environment, regardless of the situation. He took a quick glance at everything and everyone in the room, his brain working furiously.

Letting out a little laugh, he reached down towards the girl, and tipped her face up. Looking directly into her eyes, he told her in a soft steady tone: "You will get to go home….We will all go home…"

"Really?" a little boy behind him asked hopefully.

Looking up, Joe found more than a few pair of eyes looking at him.

"Really," he told them with suspiciously bright eyes and a small smile on his face.

Turning back to the little girl, he asked her: "What's your name?"

"Anna-Marie," came a soft reply.

"Anna-Marie. What a beautiful name!" Joe told her as his smile widened.


	6. Chapter 5

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 5:

_16 hours later, Saturday, 6 p.m.: _

It was a massive living room, by any standards. However, it felt small and cramped at the moment. There were nine families and several FBI agents in there, making merry and passing the warmed up frozen pizzas around.

Frank Hardy stood alone, leaning against the doorway into the room, watching Joe entertaining the kids. He could not help feeling a little left out and resentful. And he felt guilty about that.

He had just gotten his brother back after five long months. In 20 hours, they had their long brunch (breakfast) interrupted by the arrival of FBI agents, realized that Joe had been abducted, found out he helped bring down part of a crime syndicate and made himself a star witness for the prosecution, survived an assassination attempt, and then they were bundled and rushed to this safe house.

Did he remember someone calling his brother 'Tornado Joe'? That was a very apt description; Frank quietly congratulated whoever that was.

If Frank had hoped for some brotherly time finally, he was sadly mistaken. Joe had been surrounded by the other fellow abductees and their siblings the moment he stepped into the house. All the little kids were looking up at Joe with worshipful expressions in their eyes. And Joe was handling them remarkably well, reassuring and distracting them at the same time with stories of monsters and demons, and the super-duper-heroes who defeated them all. Even some of the adults were listening in rapt attention.

"One more story, please?" a high-pitched voice pleaded. A chorus of 'please' followed.

Joe had turned and gave him a helpless and apologetic look. Frank had returned what he hoped was a reassuring smile, signaling 'go ahead', and that he understood. Rationally that was. Emotionally was a different story. Frank had to grit his teeth and clamp down on the impulse to just walk over, grab Joe's arm, and drag him into their designated bedroom for the private time _he_ needed.

_'Why am I here alone?'_ Frank wondered, suddenly surprised by his own behavior. He could have easily been in that group of happy kids, joining forces with his brother telling stories of their past adventures. Yet he stood alone and apart from the rest.

Reaching deep within himself, he did not take long to find the reason. He had always been the _big brother_. Joe always followed him, and looked up to him. He was the _de facto _leader of their gang of close-knit friends. They all had followed his lead. It was all so easy, so natural; he had taken it as his due, had taken it all for granted. And now, Joe was the big brother of this group. They all looked up to him, followed him. Some of the kids literally worshiped him. And in that light, Frank was uncomfortable with his place in that group.

Then there was the experience that the kids in that group had all gone through. He was not part of that. He could never be. His heart gave a little hitch and he gasped inwardly. He could never be that part of Joe. Joe had matured, had grown up, and proven himself a good leader. Frank could feel the tiny tendrils of fear forming and slowly gripping his heart. What did that mean?

Frank's rather morose thoughts were interrupted by an insistent tugging at his elbow. Looking down, he saw a little girl staring up at him with big bright eyes.

"Hi! I'm Anna-Marie," she said. "Joe told me all about you and said that you are the bestest big brother in the world." She paused a moment before continuing rather shyly, "Joe called me his baby sister. Does that mean you are my big brother too?"

Looking down at the little girl before him, he knelt, and said, "Of course, baby sister." Picking her up with his strong arms, he headed into the group. "Let's go and see what other stories that little brother of mine can come up with, shall we?"

"Hey everyone!" Anna-Marie shouted. "I've got a brand new BIG brother! And he's the bestest big brother in the world!"

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_4 months and 5 days earlier: _

"Tonight is it!" Joe muttered quietly to himself as he fought hard to physically clamp down on his excitement. Tonight would see the culmination of a week's worth of planning and plotting and waiting. Tonight they had to make their move, because come tomorrow they would all be sold at the slave auction. And tonight, Joe was on kitchen duty, exactly where he wanted and needed to be.

Joe took a quick glance at his second-in-command, Phailin, who was on kitchen duty with him. He had to admit she really was something. Slim, bronze-skinned with Asiatic features, sapphire blue eyes and midnight black hair, Phailin was an unusual beauty. Thai father and American mother, Joe was told. And Phailin meant sapphire in Thai.

But what intrigued Joe was the strength of character behind that pretty face. She did not blame Joe for that whipping she got for his second escape attempt. In fact, he found out later she was caught attempting an escape herself using his attempt as the diversion! Not only that, she was the first to declare her support for his plan, and then showed him her secret stash of knick-knacks she had managed to steal from the kidnappers during her eight weeks in captivity, which included fifteen sleeping pills. Joe had no idea how she managed that, but was glad she did.

Joe was not doing too badly himself. His defeated demeanor in the past week had helped convince his captors that it was safe to remove the iron shackles from his hands and feet. His docile behavior had earned him the right to the same work load and food rations as the other captives. And that had allowed him to move around, pocket some crucial items, and given him time to plot and plan.

Joe also made it a point to get to know all the other kids, and then figure out what each could do to help. Cooperation and teamwork were so much easier when everyone knew each other. There was Phailin, 16, whose dad worked as a chef. There was Yan, 17, whose parents were both medical professionals. Then there were Madeline, Andy and Harry who were all 15, and whose dads all worked in the financial industry. Carrie was 14 and her mom was a teacher. Finally, aged between 10 and 12, were Anna-Marie, Yuki, Mike, Jonathan and Harish.

_Strange_, Joe frowned as he realized that all of them were kids from relatively well-to-do families. He wondered if there was any significance to it, and then pushed the thought aside. First, get out of here, and then he could ponder over the issue later.

The past week had proved to be remarkably productive. Joe marveled at just what even kids could achieve once they put their minds to it. And the hope of seeing home again had been strong motivation indeed. So they had helped him fill in the gaps of his knowledge, and helped gather and hoard the necessary supplies for their 'Operation Great Escape'. And Operation Great Escape was a relatively simple two part plan.

The first part was to get out of their prison. That wasn't too difficult in theory. There were only at most three armed guards around most of the time. There was always one armed guard at the main door, except for meal times, when all the guards and captives gathered in the dining room for their meals. And that was the escape opportunity.

It also did not take long for Joe, after chatting with his fellow captives, to realize that the guards had actually allowed the first escape attempt, only to re-capture them and punish them. It was a psychological game. Once the captives were suitably cowed, they would be unlikely to make any more escape attempts.

The second part was to head to the nearest police station once they got clear of their abductors. That part was also relatively easy in theory, since Joe found out that they were held at Red Hook Container Terminal during his second escape attempt. And he knew that a nightly rail service ran from there into New York City at 9 p.m., from doing some grunt work for his dad on a case some months back.

Joe was also ecstatic that they had managed to gather more incriminating evidence on the side. Beyond the standard chores, the kidnappers had actually had him, Phailin and Yan help with recording the criminal activities on the computer. That computer had been a treasure trove of incriminating evidence, not only on the clientele for the slavery ring, but also information on the drug distribution network in New York City.

_They are all going to pay!_ Joe could not help but crow in satisfaction as he thought of the evidence he'd gathered.

Of importance was the high-powered meeting between the Bonito family, and the representatives of the Colombian drug lords that occurred just two days prior. Joe, Phailin, Andy and Madeline were all witness to that meeting when they were used to serve drinks and meals. Joe had recognized some of the people there, including Carlos Bonito, the eldest son and future heir to the Bonito Empire. He also managed to sketch a number of portraits from the paper that he stole from his kidnappers.

_Washed the potatoes, chopped the carrots._

Joe went through his duties mechanically while his mind worked meticulously through every step of his escape plan for the last time.

_Boiled the water, cooked the meat._

Joe moved mentally onto the respective contingency plans should anything go wrong with the main plan. Even Frank would have to be proud of all the meticulous planning that went into Operation Great Escape.

'Where did that thought come from?' Joe wondered and shook his head. 'Why does it matter what Frank thinks even at this moment?'

Washed the plates, sliced the bread 

'Yeah, planning is the easy part,' Joe acknowledged. 'It's always in the execution that things go wrong.'

Joe suddenly felt nervous. Then Phailin called out to him. They looked at each other for an instant and each took a deep breath. They carefully divided the ground-up sleeping pills into six portions and mixed them into the drinks and food. Together, they delivered the food to the guards' table.

Now, they waited. And they waited. And the first of the guards yawned.


	7. Chapter 6

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 6:

_16 hours later, Saturday, 6 p.m. (again): _

In another corner of the room, Fenton Hardy sat on a large comfy couch scanning through the case file that he managed to obtain from the FBI. Every so often, he would take a quick look around the room. Just to assure himself everyone was fine, and everything was normal.

He had a long chat with both Brian and Ned, learning as many details as he could about the case. Fenton had been especially interested in the part about the organization and the security measures at the safe house. He made sure he knew about all the agents assigned to the case. He had even called on his partner, Sam Radley, to make some background checks. Still something was not sitting right with him. Frustrated, Fenton threw his notes and files onto the coffee table next to him.

Fenton gave a tired sigh, and was comforted by a pair of familiar arms around his shoulders. He turned to see his wife watching their youngest, sadness and pain evident in her pale blue eyes.

"We really failed him, didn't we?" she asked, then turned to her husband of twenty years for comfort.

Fenton pulled her down beside him and held her. What could he say? His youngest son was abducted by slave traders and he didn't know. Then believing Joe ran away, he didn't search. Because he thought Joe would return home when he was ready, just like he himself did when he ran away from home when he was sixteen.

'That's for thinking your kid would think like you do!' Fenton thought bitterly to himself.

"He still doesn't know we never really searched for him, Fent. He still doesn't know." Laura whispered to her husband, the fear clear in her voice. "Will he forgive us when he finds out?"

"I don't know, Laur," Fenton responded. "But we take one step at a time. One firm step at a time… First we get Joe safely to the court house and stand by him. And we make sure the bad guys stay in jail."

Then Fenton turned and faced his wife, reached for her hand, before continuing, "Then we work to get Joe to trust us again, Laur. Then hopefully, he will let us help him …Laur, oh Laur, he's taken by a slavery ring…you know what that means, don't you?"

Laura turned away from him then. But Fenton could see the glistening of tears on her eyelids.

"Laur, Laur, everything will be all right, Laur. Joe will have us …will have Frank. We'll all be there for him this time…" Fenton told his wife. Or was he telling himself?

Laura's response was so soft he almost missed it. "Fent, look at Frank. He needs us too…"

Only then did Fenton realize that Frank was standing all by himself, watching his brother broodingly from a distance. He had forgotten all about his elder son! And he felt he really failed as a father, this time to both his sons. He closed his eyes, his shoulders slumped. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"Fent…" 

Fenton turned back to his wife, and was surprised to see the overwhelming love in her eyes. And he allowed himself to be held and comforted by her. Just for a while.

Suddenly, they heard a little girl's voice shouting joyously, "I've got a brand new BIG brother! And he's the bestest big brother in the world!"

They saw Joe looking at Frank, the love and admiration for his elder brother shining in his eyes. They saw Frank returning the same acknowledgement, his own eyes suspiciously bright. They saw Frank join the rest of the kids with the little girl in his arms. And Fenton and Laura sat holding each other and watched as Frank and Joe together led the other kids through adventure after adventure as they spun story after story, each more exaggerated and more impossible than the last.

And they realized they were blessed indeed with two exceptional sons.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_4 months and 4 days earlier: _

It was nine in the morning when a group of exhausted but exuberant kids and teens made their way into the FBI office in New York City. The FBI staff was first amused, then disbelieving, then shocked and concerned when the seriousness of the situation finally got through to them. And they had swung quickly into action.

Operation Great Escape had gone off _almost_ without a hitch. Two of the guards had succumbed to the sleeping drug. Unfortunately, the biggest and meanest one did not. So there was a fight.

For one terrifying moment, Joe thought they weren't going to make it. The huge muscular guard had drawn his gun. Joe had come in a desperate gambit from the side and managed to kick the gun away. In the next instant, Andy, Harry, and Yan all jumped on the guard, hitting what they could – to little effect. Then Phailin came in screaming and landed a well-aimed bottle on the head. _That guard must have the hide of an elephant and the head of a rhino,_ Joe thought in despair, when the chair he used to whack the guard from behind broke into bits, and the guard had seemed none the worse for wear. Then the drug must have finally started to take effect, for the muscular giant had slowly collapsed onto the ground.

They had tied up and gagged all the guards before heading to the computer room. There, they unlocked the cabinets and helped themselves to the clean clothes which they were meant to wear for the auction the next night. Then Joe picked the lock to the safe and helped himself to some of the cash in there, which they would need for the train fare. Phailin and Yan downloaded all the data from the computer and burned multiple copies of CDs for evidence. They also printed out a set of names, as Joe requested.

Then Harry found the photos and the films in one of the cabinets. For a moment, they all stared at it, all lost in their own painful memories. Out of nowhere, the pent-up anger, fear and humiliation erupted and they all jumped on the pictures and tore into them. It was a while before Joe regained a semblance of control and reminded the rest they had to move if they wanted to catch the train. Joe gathered all the torn-up photos and films into a bag. They could get rid of those later.

The trek to the train station under the cover of night had taken nearly an hour and they had almost missed the train. Joe and Yan ended up having to carry little Anna-Marie and Yuki when they both got too tired to walk. The few other passengers on the train had eyed them curiously, but no one approached them.

Once on the train, Joe had gone through the printouts and was horrified to find out that there were a good number of cops on the bad guys' pay list. So they ended up spending the rest of the night in a deserted alleyway, not wanting to risk the police station. Joe thought it would be safer to walk into a busy FBI office in the morning, where there would be too many people for a corrupt agent to act. He had also hidden a second and third set of CDs just in case. No one else had known where he hid them.

The FBI agents who took on their case had been impressed by their well-planned and executed escape and the amount of information that they had managed to gather. They had also brought in several counselors and psychiatrists for emotional support. All in all, most of the FBI staff had handled them as if they were fragile glass. The teens, like Joe, were uncomfortable with that. But the younger kids had soaked up all the attention like sponges.

Then there had been the exhaustive long interviews and the depressingly requisite medical checkups. The respective parents were contacted, and it did not take them long to arrive. The family reunions had been emotional, joyous, and full of hugs and tears. And Joe had stood alone, apart from them, and drank in the happy scene before him. He had simply felt happy just looking on.

Soon, it was time for them all to part ways. The kids had exchanged contact details and promised to stay in touch. The parents had promised to make sure their kids continued with the counseling sessions and that they would be there for the trial. It would be a closed trial due to the youth of the key witnesses. The FBI had worked hard to keep the entire incident from the media.

Joe had smiled inwardly at the fact that no one had noticed he only gave out his Yahoo email account. But he had made sure that he got everyone else's home address and contact numbers.

Phailin was the last to leave. She had hung back until everyone was gone before approaching him.

"You did great," she said.

"You too," Joe responded.

They had both simply stood and smiled and looked at each other for a long while. Finally, Phailin moved towards him, and gave him a light kiss on his cheek.

"I expect to see your email at least once a week," she told him in a no-nonsense tone.

Then she turned and left. Joe blushed and watched her all the way until she was out of sight.

"You okay? Sure you don't want me to call your family?" a familiar voice enquired from behind him.

Joe turned and looked Cole Anderson, one of his dad's buddies from the police academy, right in the eye and said, "No. I want to surprise them." Then after a thoughtful pause, he continued with a small smile on his face, "They'll be proud of me, won't they?"

Cole looked down at his young charge and wondered how he let the boy talk him into not calling Fenton. He sighed and hoped he would not come to regret his actions for today.

"Of course they will, Joe." Cole said. "And you better get going too. You WILL tell your family everything, right?"

"Yeah," Joe mumbled, staring at his shoes.

"AND, you will remember to check in with us every month until the trial date, won't you?" Cole pressed on.

"Yeah," Joe mumbled again.

Cole sighed, and then offered. "You want me to give you a ride back to Bayport?"

Joe gave Cole a little smile as he shook his head. "I'll take the train back. Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it."

With that, he turned and walked out of the building.


	8. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone - thanks so much for your patience with me. Here's 2 new chapters 6 + 7. .. . and I've also updated the earlier chapters as well ... so hope you'll like it better than the old lot and please please Please Do review! And I'm off for my hols! YAY!  
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**  
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**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 7:

_20 hours later, Saturday, 10 p.m.: _

Several blocks away from the safe house, two black cars slid quietly into their respective parking slots. Five men dressed fully in black exited from the cars. Following a curt nod from the tallest man, the only one not wearing a ski mask, four of the men moved to survey the perimeter of the safe house.

The tall man then took out a sheaf of papers and unrolled them. It was the blueprints of the safe house. He studied them intently using a little torch light, and then carefully marked all possible entry and exit routes.

Two hours later, his men returned. Quietly but efficiently each had conveyed to him the location and known movements of the FBI agents on night duty.

"Four in constant patrol around the house."

"Two more at the front, two at the back."

"Car at left of target."

"Main power board at the back."

The tall leader had taken down all the information, making small notations on the blueprint. After a quick study, the leader started issuing instructions. Then he folded the blueprint. They synchronized their watches, then spread out, only to re-approach the house again from different directions.

Fifteen minutes later, the four FBI agents patrolling the perimeter of the house lay dead, their throats slit to the bone. Three of the assassins were already scaling the walls, heading for the upper floors, while the other two moved to breach the house from the ground floor and to disable the power supply. Their orders were clear; no one would be leaving this house alive.

O 

Agent Brian Mayers just could not sleep. Ever since Fenton had confided in him that something was not right, he had felt nervous. Finally, he gave up and decided to go for a walk. They could always use one more guard patrolling the grounds.

Walking out to the living room, he could see Ned slumped across the garden chair on the verandah.

"Ned! Now is not the time to slouch!" Brian grumbled.

He strode out into the garden, ready to give Ned a piece of his mind when he noted the unnatural posture of his partner. A deep fear formed in his gut as he drew his gun and swiftly made his way to the verandah. When he reached it and turned the body over, his partner's dead eyes stared back at him unblinkingly, the blood still dripping from the cut on his throat.

Brian fired a shot from his gun, hoping it would alert anyone still alive in the house.

"Assassins!" he yelled as he made his way swiftly back into the house and headed for the nearest handset to call for backup.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_4 months earlier: _

It was only three days ago that Joe had been nervous but happy about seeing his family again. He had been looking forward to eating his mom's cooking, listening to his dad's calming voice, and most importantly, to seeing Frank. Now, he sat alone in a deserted alleyway, trying without much success to keep warm. He had really run away from home this time.

For the briefest moment, he had considered going home. But that thought had hurt so much he squashed it.

'How did it come to this?' Joe wondered, and then laughed at the irony of the situation. His kidnappers had been right after all. He had been one of the 200,000 kids who would run away from home.

He had hitched a ride out of Bayport with one of the late-night truckers and found himself at a small hamlet on Flanders Bay. He had hoped to find something to do in one of the isolated farmsteads located on the fringes of the town, and stay under the radar for the next few months. By then, he hoped he could work out what to do with his miserable little life.

Here and alone in the silence, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to his happier days not too long ago. To the time when Iola had, with his brother's help, planned a surprise birthday bash for his happy 16th. He had given Iola a promise ring that night. Then, less than two months later, Iola died, leaving behind shattered dreams and a truck load of guilt. He should be dead! Then Iola would still be alive, the Mortons would not have lost their daughter, Chet would still have his sister, his parents would not have to worry and be disappointed in their younger, rash, and dumb son. . .

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced through the night air, rousing Joe from his guilt trip.

Joe scrambled to his feet, rushed round the corner, and saw three ruffians cornering a young woman against the wall. As one of the men reached out and ripped her shirt, Joe charged. He threw that guy a solid punch on the cheek, pushed the second man onto the third, grabbed the woman's hand, and ran.

"Come on! Run!" Joe yelled, knowing that the men might chase them as soon as they recovered from shock. And chase they did.

Knowing that they could not outrun those men, Joe pushed the woman ahead and told her "Go! Don't look back; I'll buy you some time". With that, he turned and faced the villains. In the next few minutes, Joe managed to trip one guy, dodged a few hits, kicked another guy and punched the third one in the stomach, before turning and running away. He was hoping they would chase him for revenge and not the woman, whoever she was. At least he had a good chance of out-running them.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. He tripped, and the next thing he knew, the three ruffians were on him, kicking and punching.

'This is it' Joe thought painfully to himself. 'At least this time there's no one here to tell me how rash I am …'

Then he felt someone pulling the ruffians off him … 

_ O _

Mr. Pan was driving home when he heard a scream and saw three men cornering a woman. Before he could stop his Land Rover 4WD, he saw a young man step in and pull the woman away, and they both ran. He watched as the gutsy blond sent the woman off and took on the three men with a set of well-choreographed moves, before turning to run again.

Unfortunately, the beautifully orchestrated escape failed when the young man tripped in his haste to get away. So intent were the ruffians on beating the blond, they failed to hear him approach. Mr. Pan had dispatched them with relative ease, being a _Taiji_ Master in his own right. The three, knowing they were outclassed, ran away.

Mr. Pan then approached the semi-conscious blond, and was surprised to find a teenage boy, possibly 16, but not more than 18 years old.

"Are you all right? Can you hear me?" Mr. Pan asked as he quickly scanned the boy for injuries. "Come, I'll take you to the hospital …"

"No! No, no hospital, please …I'll be OK …please!" the blond boy had pleaded.

Perhaps it was the look of desperation on the boy's face. Perhaps it was the respect for the boy's gutsy actions earlier. Mr. Pan could not be sure, but he decided to listen to him.

"Okay, no hospital. But, let's get you somewhere so you can recover and get cleaned up, all right?" Mr. Pan soothed the lad as he helped him to his Land Rover 4WD. He felt a faint tingle up the back of his spine as he drove home. He had a feeling that this boy would become an important part of his life.

O 

Joe woke up with a pounding headache. For a moment, he panicked as he looked at the unfamiliar surroundings. The furnishings were sparse. There was only a piece of Chinese calligraphy art hanging from the wall. And he had been sleeping on a futon mattress on the floor.

Then he remembered last night, and realized that his savior must have …well, saved him. He got out of bed with a groan and stopped to evaluate his injuries. Not too bad, he told himself, counting two bumps on his head, a couple of cuts, and bruises all over his body. He would be sporting a colorful torso for a few days. He screwed up his nose when his brain registered the horrible stink from the ointment covering all his bruises.

Hearing the sound of pots and pans, he made his way out of his room and down the stairs, wincing with every step. He was surprised to see a smallish elderly Chinese man stirring a steaming pot in the kitchen, merrily singing a Chinese song.

"_Zhao An_ (Good Morning.)," Joe said.

"_Zhao An_." The white-haired Chinese man returned the greeting as he started to ladle something into little bowls. "I see you know Mandarin. _Wo xing 'Pan'. Ni ne_? (My surname's 'Pan'. What's your name?)"

"_Yi dian dian. Wo du le san nian zhong wen_ (A little. I had three years of Mandarin lessons.), Joe replied. "_Wo jiao_ Joe. (I am called Joe.)."

"_Ni de zhong wen jiang de hen hao_. (Your Mandarin's very good.)" Mr. Pan complimented, and gestured for Joe to take the seat opposite him "Come, you must be hungry, join me for breakfast."

Joe walked over and saw the bowls of steamy white congee, pickles and vegetables, and he had to groan inwardly. But he was so hungry, he ate them anyway.

"That's a very brave thing you did last night" 

Joe blushed, gave a slight nod, and continued eating his breakfast.

"So, what are you doing in that part of town at that hour of the night?" Mr. Pan asked casually, noting that Joe was not speaking much.

"The woman, is she all right?" Joe asked, changing the topic.

Mr. Pan noted the diversionary tactic, but let it pass, "Yes, I called last night to report the incident and was told she made it to the police station."

"Good!" Joe said as he finished up his breakfast. He had only eaten enough not to feel hungry. "Thanks for everything, but I should get going. It would be great if you could tell me how to get back to town. I need to start looking for work."

Mr. Pan looked at the youth and said: "I live a distance from town, but can give you a lift there later. If you don't mind me asking, what type of work are you looking for?"

"I've had part-time work in cleaning, car repairs, waiter-ing, you know, the odds and ends …Are you looking for some help?" Joe enquired hopefully as he took in the condition of the house he was in.

Mr. Pan eyed the youth for a while before answering, "As a matter of fact…yes. I am in need of a helper to help fix the house, and help with my plans to landscape the garden."

He paused and noted the spark of interest in Joe's eyes, and made his offer. "I see you are not from this area. What say you take the room you were resting in and we take a cut off your pay?" Somehow he had known the boy would not take charity.

"Really? That's cool! I mean, I would love to take up your offer, that is, if you don't mind …"

Mr. Pan had to smile at the youth's ebullient response. The blue eyes literally sparkled, and he hoped to be able to bring out that sparkle more often.

"That's settled then." Then Mr. Pan continued a sly wolfish grin on his face, "Come, and let's have our real breakfast, while I give you an outline of the work to be covered."

The expressions on Joe's face when he brought out a plate of roast duck and a bowl of black pepper beef was comical.

Then Joe heard the old man say, "I had a grandson …and he hated vegetables too…"


	9. Chapter 8

**Here's the nest chapter from a net cafe ... cheerios! Since I made the effort to post during my hols... can you make the effort to comment and review too?? Happy hols people!**

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**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 8:

_20 hours 30 minutes later, Saturday, __10.30 p.m._

Frank could not wait for Joe to finish his shower. There was just so much he wanted to talk to Joe about. So the moment Joe returned to the bedroom they shared, he pounced.

"Joe. Why did you say 'sorry'? You didn't run away. I mean, it should be us saying sorry for thinking you did it. And you were gone five months, what happened?" It all poured out of Frank in a rush.

Joe looked into Frank's questioning yet concerned eyes, and replied simply, "I ran away from home."

"You were _kidnapped_!" Frank snapped back. Then realizing he lost his temper, Frank looked contrite and continued in a softer tone, "You were kidnapped, Joe. But, what happened after that? What happened during those four months? Why didn't you come home?"

"I missed you, Joe." Frank added in a voice thick with emotions when his brother did not immediately respond.

Joe sat down on the edge of his bed, but kept his eyes on his toes. Then he started to talk in a soft voice.

"After everything was over, I took the public bus from New York City back to Bayport…I was so excited about coming home and telling you about everything. I wanted so much for you and Mom and Dad to be proud of me…"

There was a short painful silence before Joe continued.

"Then I stopped by the ice-cream parlor for a snack before heading home. You know the place where we always go for ice-cream for 'The Talk'…You guys were there …and I was in the alcove right next door, and I overheard …and it hurts so much, so I left..."

There was another short tortured pause. Then Joe suddenly looked straight into his face and said in a rush, "But I came back, Frank, I'm ready, and I came back!"

Joe's eyes held a pleading look. For what, Frank could not tell. For a moment, Frank's mind drew a blank. Then he recalled that fateful day four months back, when he and his parents went to the ice-cream parlor for a family talk. His dad was telling him about his own runaway experience as a teen. It had been a rare but eye-opening experience hearing his father opening up his heart about lessons learnt and growing pains. And Frank had said ….

"… and I had said …I agreed we shouldn't go searching for you and that you'll have to learn and you'd come back when you were ready," Frank choked out. He had not meant for his brother to go off on his own and sort through his demons by himself. No. Brothers were supposed to stand by each other, support each other and help each other through the hard times.

And Frank thought bleakly_, 'What sort of a brother am I?' _

A gasp sounded from the doorway, and both brothers looked up to see their parents standing there with pain-filled eyes.

_O _

Much later, the four Hardys sat facing each other on the twin beds, drinking tea and chatting. It was the reunion of 24 hours ago all over again, except this time they were talking. Fenton had told Joe of his own painful childhood experience. Joe had given a quick run-down on his time as a captive, how he and the kids made their escape, and where he was in the last four months. There were plenty of bear hugs and tears too. And they all were dumbfounded by the fact that Joe had been staying just over two hours north of where they were, working part-time for a living, and at the same time facing down his personal demons.

'We should have been there.' Laura thought sadly to herself. 'My baby should not have had to go through that alone…'

'All on his own!' Fenton thought as he eyed his youngest with newfound respect.

Frank looked at his family around him and smiled. Things were moving back to normal. _Almost. _Frank knew there were still issues to settle. About what happened during that one month of Joe's captivity – Frank had not missed the fact that Joe was now just a little touchier about personal space. And Frank knew his little brother was still holding back on something. Frank sighed – it would take a bit more time for the family to regain Joe's trust.

Then his dad started talking again and Frank returned his attention to the family discussion.

"Joe, about your schooling, we'll sort out your missing classes and possibility for catching up with the education department later. But I think extra work will be inevitable." Fenton started, but then hesitated. Finally he continued. "Son, we never meant that you must match Frank's grades. We only meant that you put in the effort to do better than borderline passes. You are smart, and you are definitely capable of doing better than that."

"How much better than borderline passes?" Joe asked instantly, and Fenton had to bite his tongue. Laura choked on her tea, and Frank had to hide a smile.

That was so textbook Joe, always looking for a sweeter deal! Fenton had thought.

Then he saw the steady look that Joe leveled at him and realized Joe was right. How much better was better enough? His youngest had far more depth and was sharper than he had given him credit for.

Then Joe surprised them all with his next words. "Don't worry too much about that, Dad. I did attend a semester of classes. So I probably can get some credits from there…I think."

Joe suddenly stopped and frowned a little. "It's a different system, so there may be some issues on the conversion of credits…"

"Which school did you attend?" Frank asked, curious.

" Red Creek Towers." Joe said nervously.

Both his parents were floored by that, while Frank was just confused by his parents' reaction.

"Joe." Laura said in a soft voice. "That's an exclusive private boarding school. How did you get in there?"

"Of course, that's the only school in Red Creek, not counting the one in Hampton Bay," Fenton mumbled to himself, then added for Frank's benefit, "Most of the kids there either had European parents working in diplomatic circles or are from well-to-do Asian or European families working as expatriates here in the States. Students there work towards either the Cambridge examinations or the International Baccalaureate."

Then Fenton added with a wry smile, "Your mom and I certainly can't afford to send even one of you there."

All eyes turned on Joe as they waited rather impatiently for his answer. Knowing Joe, it would be some story.

But Joe never got the chance to answer.

A gunshot shattered the quiet of the night air.

Then the lights went out, leaving the four Hardys in almost total darkness.

Then there was a piercing scream that was abruptly silenced.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_3 months earlier: _

Mr. Pan whistled a happy tune as he drove to work. He realized he had not been this happy for a long time, and the reason was the young lad sitting next to him. It was like having his grandson alive and with him again. And he found he liked it. So he gave Joe everything he would have given to his own grandson. He knew this would be a temporary thing, but for now he would enjoy what was given to him by the heavens above.

Joe Hardy sat in the passenger seat of the Land Rover dressed in a white shirt and burgundy pants. The embroidered burgundy school blazer lay neatly folded on his lap. He looked every inch the respectable student attending one of the most exclusive schools in the area. The necktie lay on top of the blazer. Joe refused to wear it until it was absolutely necessary – at the school gates.

Mr. Pan had to laugh as he recalled how hard he had to work to persuade the lad to attend school. It was like running a cross-country marathon with a broken leg. Joe had been adamantly against it. Then he had absolutely balked at the uniforms. Pan had asked, ordered, and cajoled with little effect. Finally, he made a bet with Joe, and won. So Joe agreed to attend classes.

So Mr. Pan approached the Headmaster of Red Creek Towers and asked for a favor. It certainly helped that he was a senior teacher at the school, and had the Headmaster as his personal friend. Then he enrolled Joe for Art (Free-form), English Literature, Chinese as a 2nd Language, the compulsory General Paper, and finally Mathematics Syllabus 'D'.

He had noted Joe's rather unusually low self-esteem and low confidence in his academic capability, and had carefully steered Joe towards subjects that would utilize his strengths, when discussing subject choices. He saw Joe's ability to draw, his natural flair for languages, and had enjoyed the boy's rather interesting perspective on movies they watched and his interpretation of the nightly news.

With exception of mathematics – there were just some things in life one had to do even if it was not liked.

Mr. Pan smiled as he drove into the school's car park. This was Joe's third week here at Red Creek Towers, and the feedback from his teachers had been promising indeed.

_O _

"Good work, _Monsieur_ Joseph," Madame Lamont praised as she looked over Joe's sketches. "Now, if you add a little more depth here, and here, and lighten it a little there…_le beaucoup d'améliorer,_ _Oui_?"

Joe visualized the results of the improvements and agreed.

"_Oui! Merci!_" he responded, and quickly applied the changes.

Madame Lamont gave him a quick encouraging nod and moved on to the next student.

Joe himself was surprised by how much he was enjoying his classes. He could not remember when he last enjoyed school this much. But he knew once upon a time he did.

An image of himself as a little kid standing by the door and waiting impatiently for the school bus to take him to school popped up unexpectedly.

Joe smiled rather sadly. Yes, once he looked forward to school, to meeting friends, and to learning. And somewhere along the way, in the past few years of his life, he had lost that. It seemed that in the last few weeks, he found it again. Except, he did not really know what it was that he had lost.

His ponderings were interrupted by the ringing of the bell, signaling the end of the current class and the start of the next. Joe sighed as he realized his next class was mathematics. And today's topic was calculus. His nemesis. He slowed his pace.

"Joe-san! _Konichiwa_! Come, let's hurry, we don't want to be late for Mr. Sanjay's class. _Ikimashio_!"

"_Konichiwa," _Joe returned the greeting. "Let's go."

Shinji had been one of the first friends he made in the school. Seeing that Joe struggled with calculus, he offered to help. Unfortunately, Shinji was not a good teacher. However, he did have a great sense of humor and they had both gotten along very well.

Once in the classroom, Joe forced himself to focus on the doodles on the board and prepared himself for another grueling mental session deciphering them. It was a while before he realized the doodles weren't so alien anymore. In fact, they were comprehensible symbols! He sat up a little straighter. Mr. Pan was right. Calculus was edible!

Joe chuckled as he recalled Mr. Pan's reaction when he realized Joe had failed to grasp even the most basic concepts for calculus after he tried explaining for two hours. Joe was ready to give up. Instead of telling him to stop daydreaming or try harder, Pan had asked Joe to bear with him a little longer. A good teacher must be creative, he said. He had returned with a dome-shaped chocolate coated cake which he called a panotte. Half an hour and half a panotte later, Joe got his homework on differentiation done, packed and ready to be handed in the next day.

Having grasped the basics, Joe found that he could keep up with the lectures. And that was good. At the end of the class, the calculus teacher returned the assignments. Joe looked at it. 71/100. He sighed. Then he turned over and saw Mr. Sanjay's note.

_This is a big improvement from your previous assignment, Joe. Keep up the good work! _

His lips curled into a smile. Then Joe realized why he was enjoying his classes …The teachers had noted his efforts. And no one had expected him to get top grades.

Suddenly he found that he could not wait to get to his next class – English Literature. Here they had allowed the students to choose their own texts. True, it had to be from a list. But he got to choose, and he could not wait to start on _Gulliver's Travels_.

* * *

**Please please do review! I lost my wallet on day one of vacation - so - please make me happier when i next log on to see some comments? And please pray someone will return my wallet - gosh all the stufff in it ... sob**


	10. Chapter 9

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 9:

_22 hours 15 minutes later, Sunday, 12:15 a.m.: _

A gunshot shattered the quiet of the night air.

Four assassins simultaneously checked their watches even though they were in different locations. Yes, the power supply should be cut.

Five assassins smiled as each moved silently onto his next target.

O 

The four Hardys sat frozen for an instant in the darkness.

Then Joe jumped into action. He leapt off the bed, tore out the door and disappeared into the inky darkness of the corridor.

Both Frank and Laura cried out for Joe to come back, which was ignored. Fenton cursed as Frank took off after Joe into the corridor.

He turned and grabbed his wife and moved out of the room. At his wife's fearful yet questioning expression, he said tersely, "Moving target's harder for the killers. Keep close to me and as much as possible; keep your back against the wall!"

O 

Frank rushed out into the corridor and saw Joe moving swiftly towards the next room with his back against the wall. And Frank had followed suit, his eyes darting around probing the darkness for the assassins as he moved. The brothers made their way quietly through the rooms in that corridor, and in every room, all they found were dead bodies.

Before the last room, Frank noted that Joe had hesitated for the tiniest moment before making his move in. Then he realized with a sinking heart it was Anna-Marie's room. Frank pushed past Joe to get into the room first.

And there on the bed, she lay. So still, it looked like she was in sweet repose. From her chest a golden chain with a locket that looked like a smiling sun hung loosely and glittered eerily in the moonlight. But the dark red stain on her snow white pajamas betrayed the stark truth.

Frank turned and saw the agony reflected on his brother's face. The brothers exchanged a grim look that promised that those who killed their baby sister would never get away with it.

Then Frank spotted the shadow right behind Joe and gave his brother a hard yank. As Joe fell sideways onto the floor, Frank's arm was already reaching up to block the dagger's deadly path into his brother's back. Grabbing the assassin's arm, Frank tried to force him to drop the dagger by twisting it, but the assassin had managed to break his hold. By then, Joe had recovered and had turned to face his attacker. The assassin saw that he was at a disadvantage, quickly backed out into the doorway and then faded back into the darkness.

The brothers followed instantly, both knowing that letting the assassin out of sight would be giving him the upper hand again.

O 

Agent Brian Coolman headed cautiously through the living room towards the stairs. Someone must still be alive, he thought desperately. A soft rustling sound alerted him and he ducked instinctively. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a deadly flash of quicksilver; followed by a searing pain as the blade sliced his arm and he dropped his gun.

He thought he was done for when he saw the blade flash again right before his eyes. He made a desperate lunge to his left, and felt another searing pain in his thigh. Then he heard a sickening thud and the familiar cracking sound of bones breaking, and the assassin slowly sank onto the floor.

He looked up again to see Phailin and her father, Somkid. And he remembered reading that Somkid was formerly the _Muay Thai_ champion in one of the most vicious underground no-hold fighting circuits in Southeast Asia. It was illegal and brutal, but champions could make a small fortune. If they survived.

Suddenly Somkid turned, lashing out with his fist as he did so, and Agent Brian was shocked to realize that another assassin had crept up on them. Watching Somkid in action had made him glad that man was on his side.

Then he spotted a movement to his left and his heart fell as he saw another assassin coming in from the doorway. It rose momentarily as he saw the Hardy brothers close behind.

But another movement on the right dashed that hope completely as a third assassin approached from the direction of the dining hall, a cleaver held loosely in his hand. While he knew both the Hardy brothers were competent, and that Frank Hardy was a black belt Karate, he could not be certain that they could take down these professionals one on one.

Brian pulled Phailin behind him, shielding her with his body. He was surprised when the young girl broke away and stood just a little to his left. She crouched slightly and looked ready to spring. He felt a glimmer of respect arise for her. Then he rose painfully to his feet and prepared himself for the challenge. He was the agent here, and such was what was demanded of him.

O 

Frank and his brother had chased the assassin down the stairs and into the living room when the assassin stopped and turned around to face them. His peripheral vision had told him Somkid was there facing off the second assassin. Then Frank saw the third assassin, and he knew they were in trouble.

Frank felt Joe's hand on his shoulder and knew instinctively what that meant. But for a fraction of a second, he hesitated. Then he realized that Joe was no longer his _little _brother, but his brother and partner. With that, he shifted his stance just a tiny fraction and Joe stepped up and stood right beside him.

Frank smiled grimly. It would be a one-on-one and a three-on-three. Except that the assassins had knives.

O 

Fenton and Laura had made it to the living room just in time to watch the tableau played out before them: Somkid, Frank and Joe each facing down one assassin.

Somkid and his adversary had circled each other, slowly probing each other's defenses. Then, in a move too swift for the eye to catch, Somkid's fist powered past the assassin's defenses, and drove deep into the killer's solar plexus. The assassin went down with a grunt, his eyes still wide in shock, blood dripping from his mouth.

Frank kept moving on his feet, making himself a hard target as he dodged the incoming jabs from his attacker. The world around him faded as he focused solely on the dagger and the being that held it. His computation of the trajectory of each jab of the dagger had been flawless, and it had whizzed harmlessly by each time. Patiently, he waited for his enemy to make a mistake. When the opening came, Frank went straight for the groin. As the assassin collapsed in pain, Frank lifted both arms and brought them crashing down at the base of the neck, knocking him out. Then Frank turned to see if Joe needed backup.

Joe had stood still, his stance slightly crouched but relaxed, and stared steadily at his opponent. And he waited. Finally, his enemy attacked. But Joe continued to wait **(_Yi Jing Zhi Dong_) **and watch until he could be certain of the path the knife, and the arm that followed. At the very last instant, he shifted deliberately and slightly to his right **(_Yi Man Sheng_ _Kuai_)**, and the knife shot harmlessly past his belly. Joe grabbed the assassin's knife-arm with his left hand and gave the arm a gentle pull **(_Yi Rou Ke Gang_)**, utilizing the assassin's own forward momentum to pull him off balance. Then using his own body as leverage, he crouched lower, then pushed himself upwards and at the same time raised his left elbow to meet the assassin's exposed jaw and throat. The combined upward force from him and the downward force from the assassin's own falling body knock out his opponent, as Joe hoped. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he broke into a smile. His _Shifu_ was right. _Taiji _rocked!

"That was one good fight." Somkid said the grim satisfaction clear in his voice.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_2 months earlier: _

Joe Hardy was worried. He had been waiting at the school gates for almost two hours and Mr. Pan was still nowhere to be seen. There was no message on his cell phone either.

At the end of every school day, he would come back to the house with Mr. Pan in the Land Rover. They would work on the garden or the house together for three hours before stopping for dinner. Then Mr. Pan would tutor him if he needed help, otherwise it was homework time for him.

But Mr. Pan did not turn up at the usual time today. Joe hoped nothing had happened, for he was fond of the old man.

Finally, Joe walked back. It took him over an hour. He had never realized how far the school was until today. Traveling there in a car made it seem so near.

It was dark by the time Joe quietly let himself into the house. There was light from the living room, and he could hear the sound of the TV playing in the background.

Joe walked into the living room to find Mr. Pan sprawled out on the parquet floor. It was clear the old man was quite drunk and had cried himself to sleep. Joe unrolled a futon bed, helped Mr. Pan onto it, and then covered him with a blanket. He wondered what could have driven the usually calm and tranquil man to such a state.

It was then that Joe noticed an old photograph lying on the coffee table. It was of a young woman with a wide vivacious smile on her face. Next to the photograph were several letters so old they were yellowed along the edges. Knowing that those were treasured possessions, Joe gently put the photo and the letters neatly into the leather folder that was also on the coffee table.

Then Joe realized the TV was still on. As he was about to switch it off, he discovered it was playing a scene from a DVD over and over. The actor on the screen was Stephen Chow, one of Mr. Pan's favorite actors. The movie was _A Chinese Odyssey II – Cinderella_. Joe smiled. How the old man loved watching those quirky comedies by Stephen Chow, and he had all of the actor's movies in his DVD collection. And how the old man had tortured him, making him watch them over and over too! _Humor_ _an old man_, Mr. Pan had said.

It was true that Joe's Chinese had improved by leaps and bounds over the last two months. But it still took a while for the meaning of the speech by Stephen Chow to hit him …

_Once I had my true love before me, _

_But I treasured her not _

_Only after I lost her did I truly regret _

_That pain cannot be surpassed by anything in this world _

_If Heaven would deign to give me another chance _

_I would not hesitate to say 'I love you' to her _

_If I must have a time limit for that love _

_I would wish for … 10,000 years _

And Joe sat down in front of the TV, remembered Iola, and cried. Despite the fact that he gave her the promise ring, he was still flirting around. And he was flirting with another girl, a pretty stranger, when Iola had stormed off angrily to his car to grab those pamphlets when it had been his job. She had died in his place. And she had died right after he was openly flirting in her face. She died …

Much later in the night, Mr. Pan woke up to find Joe staring blankly at the TV. It was clear to him the boy had been crying. Joe must have heard him, for the lad turned and faced him.

The two men had stared into each other's eyes, and saw the raw pain enshrined within. And they knew they could understand each other as they had both experienced a similar loss.

And so two men spent the rest of the night under a clear moonlit sky in a half-completed landscape garden sipping hot chocolate. One young, and one old. There they bared their hearts and spoke through their souls.

They talked of true loves and of old days long gone by. They talked of youthful follies, of tragedies, and of heartfelt regrets.

Under the twinkling lights of a thousand stars, they laughed and cried and shared their burdens.

And the night crept inexorably towards a new dawn.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

**Note**: The largest numeral denomination in Chinese language is '萬', which means 10,000. So to say 100,000 would be ten 10,000. Essentially, the prose means the love to last as long as forever. We tried to keep the translation as lyrical as possible following the Chinese script, but may have failed to bring across fully the beauty and poignancy of that verse. Mr. Pan's love story should be revealed in Day 2 of the HB/24 Crossover, when the boys and Mr. Pan go to China. And of course Jack Bauer was also there, a captive of the Chinese.


	11. Chapter 10

**Thanks for all the well wishes re the wallet. And yeah - the rest of the hols ain't too bad. Just got a bit of food poisoning, and that limits my consumption of spicy thai food - which perhaps can be viewed as an opportunity to shed some kilos. ;p**

**Anyway, here's chapter 10, and may you readers still find it as enjoyable as the previous ones. And, so remember to drop a line to let me know what you think too . NM: sorry about your computer - it happened to me recently too - so I lost like a half dozen completed drafts of my 24 crossover First Contact. Had to rewrite wince Hope you got everything nice and safe! And welcome back to the IT world again .**

* * *

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 10:

_31 hours later, Sunday, 9 a.m.: _

The small group of survivors gathered in one of the main conference rooms of the FBI headquarters in New York City. There had been five assassins that they knew of. One was dead, killed by the two surviving agents in self-defense. Two were in critical condition from their fight with Somkid. The fourth had his throat quite badly injured by Joe's method of knocking him out. The last one who was incapacitated by Frank had regained consciousness, but had refused to talk.

The result of the night's attack was devastating. Twelve of the fifteen agents on duty were killed, and one more in critical condition at the hospital. Of the witnesses, only four were left: Joe, Phailin, Harry, and Yuki. Most of the parents and siblings were dead too. Yuki was now an orphan.

Around them was a flurry of activities, as numerous FBI agents busied themselves with the unavoidable paperwork and security reviews. At the back of the conference room, the team of public prosecutors and investigators reviewed the impact of the killings on the court case. It was clear that things were not well. The deaths of three key witnesses had put a dent on the case. On top of that, it seemed that someone had tampered with and destroyed the original CD of incriminating data as well.

Frank stayed close to Joe, but made sure he was positioned between the doorway and his brother. Just in case. He was still the big brother, and he was determined that the only way anyone could get to Joe would be through him. Of course Frank knew the futility of his action should the enemy decide to simply blow the room into smithereens. But this was something he could do. And it made him feel better.

With that, Frank turned his attention to the surviving kids. He noted that Harry, Phailin and Joe had taken turns napping and watching out for each other after arriving at the FBI headquarters six hours back. Little Yuki had slept throughout, always shielded between two of the older kids. Frank was touched when Joe and the other kids had included him in their group and had even given him the first shift. He knew that inclusion was in a large part because of Joe, and in part because of Anna-Marie's actions.

Anna-Marie! Frank felt his eyes start to tear as he recalled the little bundle of joy that he held for a short moment in his arms, the baby sister that he had had for just a few short hours. And the little girl whose innocent action had made him part of the group of escapees from the slavery ring.

No! He would not grieve now. There would be time aplenty for that later. He would use his skills to help bring down those murderers, while the others mourned. Keeping an eye on Joe, who was keeping an eye on Phailin and Harry, who were keeping an eye on Yuki, Frank let his thoughts wander back to the moment when the FBI agents first appeared at their home on Elm Street. From there, he replayed the entire sequence of events all over again, carefully sifting through the details that might yield the lead that he desperately wanted. How the first three victims were killed. How Joe was almost killed in his home. And finally the assassination attempt at the safe house.

Someone within the FBI and on the case had leaked the information. That much was clear.

One question that bugged him was; why were all the attempts focused on the last few days before trial? Surely the crime syndicate could have started paring down the number of witnesses as early as four months back?

Suddenly, Frank itched to go through the list of agents that his father managed to acquire, and the results of the background checks that Sam did. He was about to speak to his dad when a matronly woman approached him and the other kids with a tray of hot steamy breakfasts and tumblers of hot chocolate. His stomach growled, and he decided, having a quick breakfast wouldn't hurt. After all, the rest of the kids had to eat too.

Frank helped to pour the drinks and passed them around, and then helped himself to a nice warm mug. But before he could even take the first sip, Phailin let out a screeching and terrified scream," NO, DON'T DRINK!"

Then she went about knocking the cups from everyone's hands while they stood frozen, shocked by her actions.

The adults came running, wondering what happened.

Standing next to Joe and clinging desperately to him, a sickly pale Phailin said, "Bitter almonds."

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_1 month earlier: _

It was a lovely and quiet Saturday morning at Red Creek Pond. Two figures stood by the water's edge, their bodies moving in tandem in a graceful dance as they went through the entire set of _Taiji_ forms.

When the dance came to an end, the two turned and faced each other, bowed, and then each took a fighting stance, and began their sparring practice. The young man had launched the attack, and the old man had dodged and countered. For those who understood martial arts, the choreography of the match was beautifully deadly. Every attack and counter attack could have been fatal had it found its mark. The younger was swift and aggressive. The elder was gracefully slow. It would not take long for the observer to realize that the elder's movements were simply remarkably efficient and minimal. And it was clear who the master here was.

All too soon, the old man's arm swept aside his youthful opponent's incoming punch, and continued its forward journey, only to halt right before the young man's chest where the heart would be. There was a second of absolute stillness between the two. Then the old man gave the young man a gentle tap on his chest with his attacking hand, and the two laughed.

Sparring practice had ended.

O 

Mr. Pan stood before his work bench, working on the wooden structure for his garden. Every now and then, he would glance over at the young man diligently polishing the newly installed parquet floor. He could not believe that the heavens had been so kind as to grant him a disciple after all these years. The feeling that he got the first day he met Joe was right on – Joe had come to play an important part in his life.

Then Mr. Pan realized that Joe had noticed him staring. Joe suddenly smiled – not a good thing, Pan thought in consternation. Then Joe started making huge exaggerated circular movements. Mr. Pan could almost hear the words _'wax on, wax off. Wax on, wax off…'_ And he laughed. Life with this young man was never boring.

Ah, _Karate Kid_. How often in the last few months he felt like Mr. Miyagi teaching and guiding Daniel Larusso! However, the Chinese martial arts _Shifu-tudi_ (Master-disciple) relationship went a lot deeper, with serious obligations from both ends that was different but as serious as a father-son relationship.

And yes, Joe had come a long way from the sad youth with low self-esteem that he met three months back.

He recalled that night when Joe had shyly asked if he would take him formally on as a _tudi (_disciple, and that had him stumped for a moment. Joe had a good heart, and would never abuse the knowledge or skills. He had the right build and a naturally low center of gravity, making him a natural martial arts practitioner. And the months of sparring and practice had shown him that Joe had the aptitude to master the craft. But he had not expected Joe to want to take it to the next level. And he had known that Joe had been serious by the way he made the request.

Joe had misunderstood his hesitance that night, and assumed it was because of his impetuousness and rashness. He had quickly turned away in disappointment.

Mr. Pan, being a wise old man, had of course put a stop to that foolishness and after much coaxing, had managed to drag the story out of the young one. A responsible and intelligent elder brother who always thought before he acted. _Ah, the usual better big brother on the pedestal story,_ he sighed.

So he sat the boy down for a serious chat. No, he did not consider Joe rash nor did Joe always act without thinking.

Joe of course refuted it, giving the example of the night when Mr. Pan had to rescue him from the three ruffians.

So Mr. Pan narrated the story of an exceptionally brave young man going to the rescue of a lady in distress. The young man only stayed long enough to pull the lady free, and then turned to escape together. He clearly knew they could not outrun the ruffians, and had sent the lady off in one direction while he stayed to buy her time. His plan was to hit each of the ruffians at least once to turn their anger on him, before running off too, since it was obvious he stood a higher chance of running away than the lady. Then unfortunately, he tripped. Accidents do happen, that was why they were called accidents.

Joe was silent for a while before protesting that that was a nice way of justifying his actions, but he was sure he wasn't thinking, much less planning all those steps, when he jumped to the rescue.

To Joe's surprise, Mr. Pan merely laughed and bet that his elder brother probably rushed to the rescue just as often, the only difference being the logical reasoning that came _after_ the action.

_Think about it_, Mr. Pan had told Joe, before yawning and excusing himself to retire for the night.

And, Mr. Pan reminded Joe that he expected his new disciple to wake up early for his morning training.

O 

Joe could not help but smile as he saw his _Shifu_ break into a laugh over his antics. It made him happy to know that he had it within his power to make another happy.

And he wished with all his heart that he had it within his power to make his family happy. And to have them happy with him and proud of him. Joe sighed. He was still not ready.

Joe returned to polishing the floor. The monotony of the work soon found his mind wandering to how he got started with _Taiji_.

That was a little over a week after he started working on Mr. Pan's house and garden. Mr. Pan was trying to persuade him to attend some classes at the school where he was teaching. Joe had refused. Then Mr. Pan challenged him to a sparring match. Joe had refused at first, thinking that it would be an unfair match, given that he was on the boxing team at his school.

The old man had reminded him that he had taken down three men to save Joe a week back. At first, Joe was skeptical that a small sized old man could beat three young men who had so easily beaten him up. But after losing the sparring session, Joe admitted there might be something to those Bruce Lee movies after all. That was also when he discovered that Mr. Pan was a _Taiji_ master.

And he had dutifully gone to school with Mr. Pan the following week.

When he first started learning, it was out of sheer curiosity. Of course he was not expecting to be able to fly around as depicted in _Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon_ or in _Kill Bill Vol. 2_, but he was curious as to whether there was…secret knowledge to be learnt. What he did not expect was for his interest in the art to grow. The forms were beautiful, but more intriguing was the philosophy underlying it.

Joe recalled the Chinese calligraphy he saw in his room when he first woke up in this house.

以柔克剛**Yi Rou Ke Gang**** – With gentleness one overcomes brute force) **

以慢勝快**Yi Man Sheng Kuai**** – With deliberateness one defeats haste)**

以靜制動**Yi Jing Zhi Dong**** – With stillness one controls motion** )

Back then, he could not comprehend its meanings. Now, he understood a part of it, and knew there was much more depth to those seemingly simple lines.

Yeah, he had learnt much over the past three months. Not only _Taiji_, but more importantly, he learned about himself. What he was capable of, and who he could be. The question now was what did he want to be?

That, he was still unsure of.

Joe looked at his _Shifu_ again, and was hit by a sudden realization that the old man had known that he had needed, and had given him work, a roof over his head, and had made sure he continued with his schooling. Most importantly, he was given the time and space in which to grow into…himself.

It was a gift above all gifts.

And Joe resolved that he would never ever let _Pan Shifu_ down. Then with a certainty that surprised himself, he knew he never would.

A peaceful sort of contentment started somewhere in the region of his heart, and slowly blossomed into a joyous calm. He found confidence again. And that was when Joe knew that he was almost ready to go home.

* * *

**Please Review! **


	12. Chapter 11

**Hi- glad you like it Here's the next chapter. Bhar: Thanks, I was worried about the writing being too corny. As a woman, its a little hard to write from a guy's perspective.**

* * *

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 11:

_34 hours later, Sunday, 12 p.m.: _

Fenton Hardy sat at the head of the investigators' table, his long-time partner, Sam Radley by his side. His expression was grim, his eyes dark with barely suppressed fury.

His youngest son had almost died, again.

The preliminary lab report had confirmed that the young girl, Phailin was right that the hot chocolate had contained cyanide. Cyanide smells like almonds. However, only 10 of the population was genetically able to smell it.

Fenton supposed it was fortunate that she was one of the few who could. But he couldn't help but feel curious about how a young girl like her would have knowledge of such a poison.

Somkid had answered his curiosity, telling them about his time as a fighter in the underground fighting circuit in Southeast Asia and the few attempts on his life. That was how his daughter was familiar with this particular poison. It seemed that this young lady had almost as interesting a life as his sons.

And they were no closer to finding the leak.

Fenton glared at the piles of notes before him again. There must be something he missed in there somewhere.

O 

Frank sat with the 'kids', but kept an anxious eye on his dad. He was torn between wanting to stay on the side of the 'kids', and going to help his Dad – but doing so would mean he went over to the side of the 'adults'. Maybe not the 'adults', but the 'authorities'. But Frank knew these 'kids' here needed that emotional support, so he stayed with them, no matter how he wished otherwise.

And Frank started thinking about the latest incident and what that meant for the mole. The attempt poisoning right inside the FBI headquarters had highlighted the fact that he or she must be getting desperate.

What was he missing? Frank mused. Why was the mole feeling more desperate when it was clear that the case had become shakier?

Then he saw Joe, Harry and Phailin whispering to each other. He wondered what they were discussing, but was reluctant to impose himself on their privacy. Instead, he made a mental note to ask Joe about it later, provided of course that it would not require Joe to break a confidence.

Then it hit him. They must have kept something. And that something was the threat. And from the way Joe was talking, it was clear he had realized that something and was trying to persuade the others.

If it had been last time, Frank would have cut in and insisted Joe tell him what he was hiding. But now, he waited and marveled at how the last 24 hours had changed his perspectives and himself.

For one, he came to realize how much of Joe's exuberance and zest for life had infected their close-knit group of friends. Without Joe, everyone was still close, but the group just somehow lacked the vibrancy and joy for life that Joe had easily infused with his mere presence.

And two, he learned about partnership and teamwork. That realization had initially surprised him. Joe's narration of 'The Great Escape' last night was most entertaining, but more importantly enlightening. His little brother had praises for every one, even the littlest kid, for even the tiniest thing each did to contribute to the escape. Joe had downplayed his own role and attributed the key success element of the escape to Phailin, his second-in-command's, ability to purloin the sleeping pills from their captors.

And in the light of Joe's modesty, Frank had felt humbled by his younger brother's generosity of spirit.

_Patience_, Frank reminded himself for the hundredth time, and was finally rewarded.

They turned to him, and invited him into their confidence.

And he was right; the final pieces of the puzzle that he was looking for finally fell into place.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_One week earlier: _

Joe Hardy stood before the goal post in the soccer field doing his warm-ups. The rest of his teammates were practicing their dribbling and passing. Then, the referee blew the whistle, and everyone took their positions on the field. Shinji had given him the thumbs up before striding over to his position as the key striker for their team.

Today was the last day of school, and this soccer match was the final game of the semester, rounding up a fortnight of inter-house games. Inter-house games were held each semester in the final fortnight of the school, and began right after the last paper of the examinations period. It obviously gave the students something to look forward to after the exams, and gave the teachers time to grade the papers.

And this was an important match for West Tower, for winning the soccer match also meant that they had enough points to become the champion house for the semester.

Red Creek Towers had four houses (North, South, East, and West) in total, each named for the residential hall where the students lived. Joe had joined the West Tower team, where Shinji resided, and where Mr. Pan was the sports coach.

Joe was initially annoyed that Mr. Pan had placed him as the goal keeper. He had felt chained to the goal post. He wanted to be on the offensive, to be out there chasing the ball and scoring. Just like when he was the wide receiver on his football team back in Bayport.

But Mr. Pan had pointed out Joe had the tendency to go offside, and had said his skills as a receiver made him perfect for the position of goalkeeper. After the first game, Joe realized that the old man was right! No one had managed to score against West Tower so far.

All Joe did was to imagine each shot at goal by the opponent was a pass by the quarterback to him. And he caught every single one. Joe grinned. He was becoming rather creative at learning himself!

Shinji scored the first goal, and then the second. When the match was over, the score stood at 2-0. Both he and Shinji were hailed players of the match.

Joe could not help but sneak a peek at Mr. Pan as his teammates hoisted him off to the celebratory parties. The look of pride on the old man's face had meant everything to Joe.

For a moment, Joe wondered why that was so important to him. Then it surprised him to discover that he had not missed his beloved sports at all this semester. With that came the realization that he had invested so much in his sporting activities only because he was subconsciously looking for approval and praise from his family. He worked hard to excel in them so that his parents could be proud of his achievements. Just like they were proud of Frank's academic performance.

But the more time he spent on sports, the less time he had for his studies. And the poorer his grades, the more his parents were concerned. The whole thing had become a vicious cycle.

Suddenly, Joe felt he understood what Buddha must have felt when he attained enlightenment under the Bodhi Tree. Joe had suddenly felt … free.

O 

Much later that night, Mr. Pan and Joe had their own private celebration. Mr. Pan had seen the look on Joe's face after the match, and knew Joe had come to certain understandings. He also knew that Joe would be going home very soon.

_It will be difficult to let him go_, the old man realized.

After supper, Mr. Pan passed Joe an envelope. It was from the _New_ _York Times_. Joe had opened it and found a check for $600. The newspaper had accepted two of his pieces of artwork, and stated that they would be published the following week.

"I thought what you did was great," Mr. Pan told Joe. "So I sent them to one of my former students who now work at the _New York Times_, under the pen-name Joe the Brat."

Mr. Pan paused, and drank in the look of disbelief on Joe's face, and laughed.

"You made it as a spot cartoonist, and with NYT, no less. I've always said you are a talented lad, and I can't be more proud to have you as my disciple. Remember that. _Always_."

Joe blushed. It had not occurred to him that he was good enough for that. But his _Shifu_ obviously did.

"This is what you are capable of, what you could be. More important, however, is how you could use what you could be, to become what you want to be. Don't you think?"

With that, the old man excused himself and went off to bed, leaving Joe to ponder over what exactly his _Shifu_ was saying to him.

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**As usual... I plead for reviews .**


	13. Chapter 12

**Again, I am grateful for the reviews, and happy that it was enjoyed. Thanks. This is at the end of the day, a simple story with a simple plot. But what is life if not for the little simple things?  
**

* * *

**Growing Pains **

by Jolly & Soda

CHAPTER 12:

_35 hours later, Sunday, 1 p.m.: _

Fenton Hardy was mentally cursing and feeling totally discouraged when he felt the eyes on him. He looked up to see Joe, Phailin, and Harry standing nervously before him, a serious but defiant expression in their eyes. Frank stood close behind those three, holding Yuki in his arms. Frank's rather protective stance as he hovered over the others had warned Fenton that this would not be something he liked, but would have to be handled delicately.

"Dad, there was something else we did not tell anyone" Joe began, then paused and started to fidget rather anxiously.

Fenton laid a comforting hand on Joe's shoulder and gave his youngest an encouraging smile, even as he got a bad feeling in his guts about whatever these kids were going to tell him next.

"There were photographs…photos of us…." Joe paused. It was too painful still to talk about that. So he glossed over it knowing his dad could easily pick up what he did not say.

"And there were a few of the photos with them…with us…during that meeting." Joe choked out those few words.

_Photographs_! Fenton repeated in his mind, his heart almost stopped for an instant. He had no doubt what those photos were about.

Then Joe continued, his eyes pleading for understanding from his father. Joe knew well the consequences for tampering with evidence. "We wanted to destroy those films and photos…because we couldn't bear to…"

And Phailin interrupted, glaring at Fenton. "We knew we were destroying evidence. But those were us…were ours. "

She added before Fenton could respond. "You have no right to disapprove of what Joe did. That was our decision. You have no right to blame us. To make us feel bad. You don't know what we went through".

Fenton had to smile inwardly. This girl had guts. He looked over all the kids again and felt his heart constrict with anguish for what they had gone through. No one, especially not little children, should have to go through what they had gone through.

The father took a moment to consider the situation before him. It was clear that the withholding of this piece of information had cost all of them. Fenton sighed. The only way left was to move forward for now.

"There is nothing wrong with wanting to destroy those pictures," he told the kids, and then added in a stern tone "Though by doing so, you may have helped those who committed the crime to get away with the deed."

Joe, Harry, and Phailin had all returned their focus to their shoes; their faces flushed red, the guilt from the knowledge of the consequences of their actions clear in their slumped demeanor.

Fenton ignored the fact that his elder son was glaring daggers at him. Frank obviously felt he was being too harsh.

Then Joe continued. "And dad, I was the only one who knew where those photos and the back-up CDs were hidden. And only one other person knew I was the only one."

Suddenly, the significance of what Joe was saying hit Fenton.

"Are you saying you know who the leak in this case is?" He queried urgently.

Joe gave a quick nod, and tried to speak, but found that for some reason, his voice was stuck in his throat. He turned to Frank, who understood what his brother wanted and took over from there.

"Two things were not right about the whole situation." Frank started. "One was the fact that the killings only started a few days before the trial date. The second was that the murder attempts continued even after it was clear that the case against them had weakened considerably. The only logical reason would be that there was something else out there that was still a threat."

"Joe arrived at that conclusion." Frank said the pride in his voice clear for all to hear. "Then he persuaded the others it was time to hand over the photos."

Then Frank looked his father in the eye and said, "Dad, it was Cole Anderson."

Fenton was shocked by the revelation. Cole Anderson had been his buddy since police academy, and they had served together as part of the NYPD for a short while.

"He was the only one who knew about back-up CDs, and that Joe was the only one who knew the hiding place. He must have known about the photographs too, because he questioned Joe many times about it, even though Joe denied it each time. Furthermore, isn't it protocol for the FBI agent to personally inform the family of the victim, especially since Joe is still legally a child? And Agent Anderson did not contact you, even when Joe had failed to report in each month."

Fenton digested the information that Frank and Joe had given him, over and over in his mind. And all the pieces fell into place, once he removed the assumption that Joe reported in monthly on his own.

"Joe did not come home. And Cole could not locate him. The key evidence was still out there. So they dared not pick off the witnesses early, fearing that it would tip us off," Fenton finished off Frank's line of thought.

And a chill gripped his heart. Joe had lived this long only because he had run away from home. And he had been safe in school only because of the exclusive nature of Red Creek Towers.

Then Fenton exchanged a look with his eldest, telling him that he was entrusting them all to his care. He got Frank's acknowledgement before moving off. There was much work to be done before the day was over.

O 

It was well past dinner time before Fenton got back to his family. Fenton decided to brief everyone despite the lateness of the hour so that they could sleep in peace.

He had Sam Radley and Con Riley go and pick up the evidence from the hiding place. Then they had cooperated with the D.A. to incorporate the new evidence into the case.

Then he and Agent Coolman had obtained an arrest warrant for Cole Anderson, and a special warrant to search all off Cole Anderson's properties. Knowing that he had lost, the man had confessed to his role and even provided more leads in return for a reduced sentence.

Finally, the clock had struck midnight, and Laura stepped in and sternly ushered everyone to bed. They still had to be ready for court tomorrow, she reminded them.

Frank had lain in his bed right next to his brother's. He watched Joe until his brother fell asleep. They caught the leak, and now had even more evidence than before. Then Frank allowed himself to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Joe was safe at last.

This case was over. _Almost_.

_OHBHBHBHBO _

_On Frank's Birthday: _

Mr. Pan woke up early to find that Joe was already awake and sitting at the dining table. The breakfast was ready, hot and steamy, sitting on the stove waiting for him.

Joe was looking at the handcrafted wooden frame before him. Next to the frame were numerous sketches of a young man with similar features to Joe's. Mr. Pan had known that was Joe's big brother.

The old man looked at the sketches. They were exceptionally well drawn. Though what was interesting was the change in the nature of the drawings over time. The earlier ones had depicted the brother looking handsome, serene, and confident. In other words, perfect. The later ones had his brother in the midst of various activities. In one, the brother was frowning and chewing his lips as he concentrated on the chess board before him. In another, his face was screwed up in frustration as he struggled with a fishing line. In yet another, he was curled up in a couch reading a book with a contented happy expression on his face.

And Mr. Pan looked on with approval as Joe selected the latter pictures to place in the frame before wrapping it up and tying it with a bit of twine.

They went for their morning walk and practise together, each simply enjoying the other's company. Then they returned and had breakfast together. Later, they went to work on the gardens, before taking their lunch break together. They went through the routines and it was like any other day.

But Mr. Pan knew that today would end a little differently. Joe had already told him why he had to go home today. His young disciple had a good grasp of symbolism.

After a late lunch, Mr. Pan bade his disciple follow him into his study. There, he had traced the genealogy of his line of _Taiji_ masters, which Joe should know as a formal disciple. Then he passed Joe a small jade pendant and a pair of beautifully crafted hand daggers. It was something that each master passed on to his student, and one day, Joe would pass those on to his own too.

Then, the master gave his student a ride to town, where Joe caught the public bus back to Bayport.

The old man could not help but feel sad and lonely as he drove home alone. He sighed. Back in his house, he sat on the verandah which Joe had polished, and gazed into the garden which they had both planned and created. And he sat there till the sky turned from blue to a blazing sunset to a dark purple. Finally, he moved to the kitchen to prepare a small dinner for himself.

Something caught his attention. He saw a small package and an envelope on the table. Inside the package was a picture frame containing a sketch of them both practicing _Taiji_ by Red Creek Pond. He read the letter and his eyes misted over. That disciple of his sure had a way with words.

And he smiled. Of course he would not mind Joe coming over every now and then. And he looked forward to meeting that clearly very special big brother too. Then he laughed. The heavens had been kind to an old man. Suddenly, the rooms around him felt brighter and livelier. Mr. Pan had the feeling that they would have more adventures together again before long.

The old man whistled a happy tune and started cooking his dinner.

O 

On the bus, Joe looked at the pair of daggers and the pendant that was entrusted to him. He was both honored and touched by the magnitude of his _Shifu's_ faith in him. He recalled everything he went through, and the lessons learnt over the past months. Yes, it had been a learning experience. And he had turned out the better for it.

All too soon, the bus reached Bayport. And Joe got off the bus and made his way to Elm Street. But the closer to home, the more nervous he felt. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure of himself anymore. After all his family had assumed he had run away from home. He supposed he sort of had.

And this Joe was no longer the same Joe of five months back. He had changed. He was no longer that innocent boy.

So Joe stood there, across the road, hidden from view, watching the festivities in his home. He watched all his and Frank's friends arrive. Watched the light and shadows from the windows, and imagined the fun and laughter going on in there, which he felt he was not a part of. He watched the friends leave.

He watched his brother drive Callie home and return. Then he forced himself to approach his home. Coming home was harder than he anticipated.

Soon, he was standing apprehensively outside the kitchen door.

He rang the doorbell. And he waited.

Then the door opened.

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**lol - PK: you picked up the fact that Joe said he'd took the train home, then later he told his family he took the public bus, and asked if there is any significance. Guess here I can answer; yes.**

**To all readers, my usual plea: Please Review! **


	14. Chapter 13

**Hi, this is the last of the chapters. I always like to balance the role played by both brothers in a story. I tried but failed here. I have delayed posting this in hopes that I could sort of find a way of continuing smoothly, but it is not to be. Thus I had to break out Frank's story and put it in a sequel instead. I hope that you've enjoyed everything and will continue to enjoy Lessons Learnt as it gets written. Thanks too for all the lovely reviews. They were very much appreciated.  
**

* * *

**Growing Pains **

By Jolly & Soda

Epilogue

_Six months later: _

In a quiet corner in downtown New York, an old abandoned building had returned to life.

The brightly lit building stood out clearly from the rest this evening. There was joy and gaiety in the air as more and more people trotted through the newly renovated main door into the building. Above the entrance, a sign proudly read: Everything You Need (EYN) Inc.

EYN was a non-profit organization that was set up by the families and relatives of the children who were kidnapped by the slavery ring. Its objective was to help runaway kids by providing shelter and assistance, give the kid time and help to find themselves before going home.

Fenton Hardy and his wife stood in one corner, as they watched Frank and Joe enjoying the festivities and catching up with Harry. Somkid had quit his job in uptown New York to open a Thai eatery in Bayport. Phailin currently attended Bayport High with the Hardys. Fenton had decided that she was both an interesting and likeable character. Yuki had returned to Tokyo to live with her grandparents and was unable to attend.

Fenton's gaze fell on his youngest, and he was again amazed by how maturely Joe handled himself in the aftermath of such a traumatic experience. Joe had attended his fortnightly psychiatry sessions, and the therapist had assured both parents that Joe was managing very well.

Then Fenton turned his attention to Frank. He noted with much pride that Frank had, without external help, coped with the situation. He was careful to give Joe space when needed, and was always available when Joe needed support. Fenton also realized that the nature of partnership between his two sons had evolved to a higher level. Frank now treated Joe as an equal partner on cases, rather than just his little brother.

Mr. Pan had in a way become a part of the family. He was the grandfather the boys never had. The boys would occasionally camp over at his house to practise their martial arts. Frank was delighted at the opportunity to spar with an expert like Mr. Pan, and the two often exchanged views on the differences and similarities between Karate and _Taiji_. Mr. Pan was naturally closer to Joe, and Fenton supposed it was because of the 'Master-disciple' relationship which he was still trying to understand.

The court case was still on-going, with the defendant angling for appeals. But the magnitude of evidence had made that a difficult process. It was clear to all that the Bonito family had suffered a major setback from this incident.

Finally, Fenton turned back to his wife and held her in a tight embrace. At Laura's inquiring looked, he laughed and said, "Nothing, I was just thinking, how lucky we are to have everything we need …"

_The End _

**Authors' Notes: We hope that you've enjoyed the story, despite the lack of originality. All the references and the answers to the 'treasure hunt' will be posted in the next chapter entitled The Postscript. The few loose ends in Growing Pains will be touched upon in the sequel Lessons Learnt, where Frank had a few lessons of his own to learn about himself and his younger brother, and the threat of the Bonito Family grows as the trial progresses. Both Growing Pains and Lessons Learnt share the same epilogue. **


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